


Second Chance

by LadyofHeart



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Claire Lives AU, F/M, she deserved a full life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 09:06:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15905187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofHeart/pseuds/LadyofHeart
Summary: My obligatory Claire Lives AU. Not sure if it's gonna be a bunch of one-shots or multi-chaptered, but it will eventually follow the plot of some of the games.





	Second Chance

It was like a rug had been pulled out from under Hershel. He hardly registered the crying child on the street, the chaos that had seized control of everyone around him, and was left with a single piercing thought; Claire. Not Claire. Anything but Claire. Smoke rose into the air, choking out the sunlight, and his hopes along with it. He could not lose someone he loved again. Fate could not be so cruel.

Suddenly, the scene changed on him. No longer was he in the broken ruins of a London street. Instead, it was the pristine walls of a hospital room, and the steady beep of a monitor. He hadn’t left her side, even for a second, though Clark and Brenda insisted. They had stepped out when poor young Luke started tossing a fit. He had just turned three. Claire found him absolutely charming.

He looked at her, shrouded in white blankets and frail. It was wrong. Claire was never meant to be a frail form. She was fire and strength and grace. He could almost believe her broken in this way. But Claire was stronger than him, she could not be broken, and that was one reason why he loved her so much. Any day now, she would wake up. Everyone was sure of it. Hershel forced himself to be sure and push down the nagging voice in the back of his head. Her eyes would open, and he would not miss it.

His own, however, were growing weary with sleep. It had been days since he had a proper rest and these chairs were not meant for sleeping. He told himself it was probably a small pain compared to Claire’s, and managed through it. 

“Hershel?” The voice was so meek he might have missed it in his dozing. But he had been ready to hear it, to hear any word really, and he shot to his feet, at her side in a heartbeat. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the bright light. She smiled when she focused on him. “You’re wearing the hat I got you.”

He exhaled and all the weight slipped off of his shoulders. He was unashamed in the tears he shed as he pressed his forehead to hers. She was warm and alive beneath him, all he could ever ask, and his tears were from a happiness he never thought he would feel. 

At some point, he was aware of Clark, Brenda and Luke returning, the first two as ecstatic and tearful as him while their son was only aware of the happiness, not the gaping jaws of death that had nearly consumed them all. He wished for a touch of that innocence, but it didn’t matter much anymore. Claire was safe. That was all that mattered. Everything was right again.

****

 

Claire could feel Hershel’s eyes on her, watching like a hawk. He tried to be subtle about it, sipping his tea regularly and happily chatting with Brenda and Clark, but she knew. She had been released from the hospital a few days ago, still weak and aching all over, but confident in her recovery. Now, she sat on the floor of the Triton’s house, helping little Luke with assembling a puzzle. It would create a picture of cute cartoon animals when they were done. Brenda, Clark and Hershel sat at the table nearby, talking passively.

Constantly, she caught his glances. She was running out of words to explain to him that she was fine. They were both fine. They had made it through that frightful disaster.  
She handed a corner piece of the puzzle to Luke, but was caught off guard for a moment. Indeed, they had made it through the disaster, but there had been a young boy who lost his parents because of their failure.

Hershel was looking at her again. Maybe it wasn’t the physical pain he was worried about. She felt a small hand poke her own. Luke was waiting patiently for her to say something, his puzzle complete.

She smiled. “Well done, Luke! Look at the cute animals you’ve made!” She clapped her hands together, spurring on the boy’s enthusiasm. He was so patient for his age, and happy. It broke her heart that Brenda and Clark would be moving to the countryside, but seeing the tight roads of London and Luke’s fragile self, she couldn’t argue. He deserved the fresh air.

Lately, she wanted a bit of that chance, too. London was lovely and it was home, but it had also become twisted and tainted. Many times over, she wanted to ask Hershel if that was how he felt about Stansbury. It was his home, but also a deeply buried pain. Would London always feel like this to her now? Could she get through this? With Hershel, just about anything seemed possible, but days crawled by and she was beginning to have doubts. 

She brushed her hair out of her face, refocusing on playing games with Luke. It would be fine. She just had to give it time, even though time was becoming a topic that was uncomfortable to mention.

“Claire?” She was surprised to hear Brenda’s voice call her.

“Yes?” She looked up to see the three of them were staring at her with varying levels of pity.

“I need to make a quick run to the store down the street. Care to come?”

“Oh, certainly!” Her smile put Hershel and Clark at ease. 

Getting up was difficult. Her injuries had been numerous from the explosion, so much so that she had to grab her crutch resting nearby to walk around with stability. It was her confident nature that stopped anyone from helping her up. If she showed it didn’t hurt, they would feel more hopeful about her recovery. 

She hobbled over to Brenda, saying goodbye to the men, and followed her out the door. They made it a few feet down the street before she turned to her with a quirked eyebrow.

“So, what exactly do you need from the store?” She asked.

Brenda shrugged. “Oh, tea, probably. I love Hershel, but he goes through our tea quicker than we do when he visits!”

Claire laughed. “That’s certainly true. I thought a gentleman would be more conscientious!”

They were both laughing now. When it died down, Claire got to the root of her question. “Is there something you want to talk about, Brenda?”

Her smile faded. “Can’t I just enjoy a walk with a close friend?”

“Brenda.”

She sighed. “I wanted to ask how you were doing.”

“Well enough to walk, clearly. Though I can’t wait to do away with this crutch!” Once it was gone, she was sure everything else would fall back into place, her mind included. “I suppose you want to hear something else but honestly, Brenda, I’m doing great.”

“It doesn’t always seem like it,” she said. She looked wistful. “You started zoning out. I’ve never seen you do that. And especially not when you’re engaged with an activity or puzzle! I know Luke’s puzzles are a bit young for all of us, but it’s like you weren’t there. Truly, if something is wrong, I am always here to talk. And so is Clark. And Hershel, of course.”

“If I thought there was a problem, you all would be the first to know.”

Brenda stopped walking, forcing Claire to as well. She was surprised to see her friend so misty-eyed. “Promise?”

“Brenda dear, of course! Please, don’t be upset. The worst has passed us.” She offered out her arm that wasn’t holding the crutch for a hug, which was eagerly received. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

How could she say that, though? Her friends, her love, thought she was going to die. The doctors said she had, for a minute. Living was the best way to assuage their fears, and even then the fear might never really fade. Her words were starting to sound empty, even to her.

 

****

 

When Hershel walked through the door, a cloud of tension settled over him instantly. It was dark, both from the lights being off and the gray London weather, and it was cold inside too. He closed the door behind him and settled his suitcase down before walking into the living room. He was surprised to see Claire sitting there, all by herself, staring out the window from the comfort of one of their chairs.

“Claire?”

She startled at his voice, even though he did his best to be soft. “Oh Hershel, you scared me! I didn’t realize you were home. Is it that late already?”

“Yes.” He didn’t tell her that he was running an hour late to begin with. Lately, time slipped away from her, and he would hate to embarrass her or shed light on it before she brought it up. If she even noticed. “How was your day?” 

She looked back to the window. “If you want to ask me about what the doctor said, you can just ask.”

He was surprised by her bluntness. “Is everything alright?”

“I thought it would be,” she said. She sounded so small and dim. “Hershel, this is as good as I’m going to get.”

He blinked a few times. “What do you mean?”

“The shortness of breath, the limp, none of it is going away. This is it.” She looked at him, a fire in her eyes for all the wrong reasons. “Do you understand? I’m not going to get any better. Today, I was told that this was the height of what my body was capable of, and I had to gall to feel bad!”

“Claire, what on earth are you saying?”

She shot to her feet, only to take a step forward and nearly topple. He was quick to catch her, holding her close. “People died because of me, Hershel!” Her voice cracked, all eerie coolness lost. “I orphaned a boy that day, and I get to walk away with this. How dare I feel bad about all of this! I’m still breathing! I’m still here! What is wrong with me?”

“Nothing is wrong with you,” he said. He looked into her teary eyes and knew it was the truest thing he could ever say. He brushed her curly hair out of her face. “You cannot carry on blaming yourself for these things. You’re allowed to be hurt and upset over these things, but don’t think for a second you are lesser because of them.”

“I just don’t understand,” she sobbed. “Where did we go wrong?”

He didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to hold her close and reassure her as many times as she needed. For as much as it had hurt her, time would also heal her. And he would be with her every step of the way.

 

*****

 

“I suppose it will be my thing,” she said as they walked through the shop.

“Your thing?” Hershel repeated.

“You know, like your top hat. Oh, since I chose your top hat, you should pick it out for me!” Her eyes glimmered with life, as if her darkest hours didn’t descend each night to wrack her with nightmares and contrast her natural lively personality. 

“I see,” he said. He looked up and down their choices, a hand on his chin. “How about this one?”

“Hmm, sleek, smooth, very stylish. You’ve got quite the eye there, love!” Claire plucked it from the others and walked to the mirror nearby, Hershel standing behind her. “See, my thing! You and your hat. Me and my cane.”

They both stared at her new accessory, a mix of apprehension and excitement. Her smile was genuine, which was all he ever wanted.

He grinned with equal joy. 

“It is quite a lovely cane.”

**Author's Note:**

> *slams fist on table* CLAIRE DESERVES A CHANCE TO LIVE and i just want to write claire tbh this is my excuse


End file.
